Meet our stereotype starving artist. He's got it all, folks. The smock, the beret, the beard. The smug superior expression. But for me, he is also every working artist trying to scrape it together.

And part of what must have been on my mind was the sometimes hostile split at Pratt Institute between the noble and pure Fine Artists, the painters, sculptors and printmakers, and we miserable art whores, (gasp) Commercial Artists, Illustrators, Graphic Designers, Art Directors, Typographers and such, who had the balls to expect to be paid for our labor and talent. What punks!